...is a long one.

It all begins on the 30th of December, 2006.

I met G at Bay Street at 9:00 PM to just talk and read.
He was drawing and listening to music - I was reading Blue Like Jazz, by Donald Miller.

In the book, Miller mentions a friend of his at Reed College in Oregon who didn't purchase clothing for a year, rather choosing to save her money for more appropriate allocations - saving for God, saving for charity, saving for her church.
For those who know me, I'm not really Christian, but reading this book has opened up a whole new lines of thinking for me: what it means to be religious in a non-religious environment, what it means to be truly faithful without pushing that idea on other people.

However, Miller's friend raised this question in my mind: Would I be able to last a year without buying any clothes?

I thought about it for a little bit. I discussed the idea with G. What would this entail? Would I be able to do it? We went back and forth for a bit before we decided to leave Bay Street to head to Safeway before going to G's house. I looked at the clock. 1040pm.

I had a hankering for muffins at Safeway. I wanted a health alternative to cupcakes. Instead, when I got there, I was greeted with super sugar laced, ultra glazed muffins that would probably give a grizzly bear a ridiculous buzz.

I wandered into the snack aisle, grabbed two boxes of Triscuits and went to the register with G.
I paid for the Triscuits, threw it into my car and started my car up.
I saw G pull out of his parking spot, so I headed out of the parking lot.

I turned left onto a small side street, and then made a right onto Washington Blvd. I made my way to the intersection of Driscoll Blvd. and Washington Blvd.

Around 50-75 feet from the intersection, my left turn light turned green. I distinctly remember saying to myself: "Sweet, this is going to be a nice smooth turn." This was a turn I probably have made hundreds of times before.

My car bumped over the train tracks, and I began to make my left turn.

An oncoming pair of headlights and I thought, "That car's not stopping."

I braced for impact.

It wasn't as bad as I thought. Imagine someone shoving you as hard as they can while you're just sitting in a rolling chair.

My airbags appeared in front of me. My windshield spidered. My David Tao CD kept playing.
Smoke rolled out of the cracks of my radio.

"Oh shit."

I looked out my driver side window for the person who hit me.
I turn back. I can't see my hands behind the air bag.

I turn my key to get it out of the ignition.
It doesn't budge.
I try it again.
It doesn't turn.

I push my shifter into park.
I turn the key and it comes free.

In between getting out, and turning the key, I somehow remember to eject my seatbelt.

I open the door to get out, but the door only cracks open 3 or 4 inches. It's hard to open my door all the way. I plant my thigh straight into the door and shove. I slip out. I stand on the island. All the damage is in the front driver side. My front wheel is turned 90 degrees out. My body kit is trashed. My windshield spidered - but we knew that already.

What the fuck do I do now?

I need a witness. I need a witness.

I turn toward the location of where the car that hit me would've gone.

I see a car stopped, and a small/medium middle aged asian man walking toward me.

I ran to meet him. "It was green! My light was green!"
He responds, "No, my light was green."
I said back quite loudly, "No, MY light was green!"
He shook his head.
I shook mine.

I ran back and called G in the process.

G sounded very unsure, "Hell....o?"
"I need you to come back to the corner of Driscoll and Washington. A car hit me, I need your help."
"I'm coming back to you."
"Thanks."

I hang up. I dial Fremont Emergency. Speed dial 3 on my phone. (Don't ask me why. I just do.)
I give them my location. My contact information. The incident. I talk way too fast for her to comprehend me. I'm freezing. It's 41 degrees out, and I'm wearing a t-shirt and a thin jacket.

I run back to the man. His name's Miki. As I'm standing there saying "My light was green, I have no idea what you were doing," a minivan rolls by. A woman says out the window "We saw it all. We saw it all."

The minivan turns into a side street. I run back to my car to wait for the police.

I dial my dad. I tell him I'm not at fault. I doubt it's any consolation. I tell him to get here as quick as he can. I can hear my mom yelling in the background. I hang up.

I run to the minivan.
I have a witness. I have a witness.

I arrive just in time to hear the driver of the minivan say to Miki, "I'm sorry, you're in the wrong. You ran the red. You're wrong." He points to me. "He's in the right."

A large burden is lifted from my chest.

"Sir, will you stay here and act as my witness?"
"Yes."
"Thank you so much, sir."

G rolls up. I run to meet him.
"Wait here, I need to get my bag."
I grab my bag from the passenger side seat of my car. My camera's inside. I'll worry about it later. I put it in G's dark passenger side foot space.

The witness comes up to me. Hands me a slip of paper. "I need to go, but here is my name and my phone number. Please call me." I could not be more thankful enough. He leaves.

The police officer rolls up at this moment. He's a good looking man. He wants to know if anyone's injured. Miki replies no. I reply "Not that I know of." He tells us to trade insurance information, registration and driver's licenses. He doesn't take any reports. Only if someone's injured. Insurance will deal with the rest.

The police officer calls a tow company. I ask him for his card. His name's Todd.

Todd turns on the spotlight to the hood of the car so Miki and I can trade information.
I ask G for paper and pen. The artist he is, hands me scrap paper and pen that he always has on his person. I ask him to check the traffic lights for me. To confirm that my turn was protected. He runs off.

I start copying information. I'm so cold that I can't control my body shaking and my hand shivering. It's all I can do to keep my teeth from chattering.

Miki wants me to write down my information for him on his notebook.

I think, "Copy that shit down yourself. You hit me."

I instruct him what to copy down. He writes my name phonetically in Japanese. He writes my last name in English.

My parents arrive. G comes back. He says that my turn's protected and that there is no way that I would've needed to yield. I tell G in Mandarin to watch Miki and wait.

I meet my parents. My dad wants to know if I'm okay. My mom wants to know whose fault it was. I reply that it's his fault, it's his fault. I'm okay.

The tow truck arrives, and the police officer tells us to remove our information from the hood of his car. He needs to block traffic.

I run to the tow truck. The mechanic's a portly man. He greets me, "How you doin' tonight?"

I remember thinking "That's a rhetorical question, right?"

I reply, "Not good. Can I gather my things from my car?"
He says sure.

I start getting the things that mean something to me in the car. Bone Comic, Single Volume. CD carrier. Buddhist stickers. Monk blessed items. FM frequency modulator. I run over to G, who takes them all.

My mom tells me to get my rearview mirror. I go back around. Broadway Rearview Mirror. Goddess pendant. Cool keychain man. Is my bluetooth headset in the arm rest? My hands are full anyway. G takes the second load.

The police officer tells us to wait over by the side of the road. I still have stuff in the car. But I don't feel like endangering my life twice.

I talk to my parents. Tell them I have a witness. Tell them I'm not at fault. My mom's furious. Her blood pressure's high. When you've lived with her for as long as I have, you just know these things. You also know that your life is going to be a living hell because everything eventually revolves around her and that she will blame me for the accident even though it's not my fault.

The officer leaves. The tow truck comes back with my car on its bed. I look at it, and I feel anger. I feel rage. I feel sadness. The gift that my parents bought me for college, birthdays, Christmases, sitting broken, trashed on a fucking pedestal.

G's standing there in front of me. "You alright?" he asks.
"I'm okay. You should probably get going."
My dad puts his hand on his shoulder and tells him that it's okay to leave.
"Thanks, G."
"Not a problem." He walks off. He's the closest thing I can ever get to a brother.

I walk back to Miki. I tell him that I'm going to go to the hospital. I'll call him if I need anything. He's trying to be nice. I want to deck him.

I walk back to my parent's car with my dad. I punch air. I kick dirt.

On the drive to the hospital, my mom's spitting everything at us. Me and my dad's cynicism supressing her psychic abilities. Her premonitions about tonight. How her life is shit. How we've treated her abilites as a piece of shit. How we've tread on her livelihood. (Seriously, I can't make this shit up, these are her exact words.)

I get to the hospital and fill out the form. it's 11:40.
Then the long wait.

I see a doctor at 2:30AM. His hands are smooth. He touches my neck. My spine. He performs standard checks. He tells me I'm okay. My dad insists on an x-ray. I get x-rayed. The technician says "Car accident, huh? That's no good." I tell her about the tow truck mechanic.

Her response put the first smile on my face for the evening: "That's a shit question, innit?"

I check out of the hospital at 3:00AM. It's freezing outside.

I go home. I get lectured by my mom. Clearly she's stressed out. Also because her life is shit. Because she's on the bottom of me and my dad's shoes. She stresses that my life could've ended tonight. It never even crossed my mind. I feel guilty.

I get to sleep at 4:00 AM.

I pray that I'm able to dream about the accident so I can study it in my dreams.

I dreamt about psychotic killers who gouged their own eyes out, cut on themselves and carry G36 rifles. It was definitely a nightmare with no soundtrack and no fear. I woke up really warm. No sweat.

It's 11:00 AM. I can't sleep anymore.

I start thinking about my crash the night before. Ironically, I decided two days before that I truly loved my car. Now it's gone. Rage. Anger.

I need to probably get a new car. God. A new car. I have a decent paying job, but I'm not made of money. And since I was never able to get the things I wanted during my college years, this last year has been a whirlwind of purchasing all the things I wanted. You know...going nuts.

I went back to Blue Like Jazz. About Miller and his friend who never bought clothes.

I entertained the idea.

What if I didn't buy clothes? Heck, what if I didn't buy ANYTHING? The whole year?

I dismissed it. I love shopping too much. I like buying shit.

But buying another car. God.

What about buying only absolute essentials for a year?

It's possible.

And that's where this accidental experiment comes in.